Lessons Learned
by Reykja
Summary: If Kakashi were to reflect on the life he's led so far, would he have any regrets? A short Kakashi one shot written for a challenge. **Warning: Possible spoilers for manga 426**


_I arranged this challenge for both myself and Victoria Levi._

_Write an hour long piece on a male character of your choice - if you want to pair him up, that's fine, but it doesn't have to be romance. But! It does have to be 90% reflective. So either what takes place is all in the past, or there are just thoughts back to that time._

_My choice was Kakashi._

_The song in question is this one: Mannen i den Vita Hatten (16 år senare) by Kent - Translation: The man in the white hat (16 years later)  
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_**Another warning if you didn't read the summary properly - may contain possible spoilers for manga nr 426**_

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Looking back, his life had turned out a little different than he'd planned. Not that he had ever had a clear direction or fixed goals to fill, but he did have expectations on how he wanted things to turn out. He would have retired from his bachelor days at the age of 26, gotten married and had a couple of kids, maybe three. At least one boy and a girl. He would have celebrated anniversaries, birthdays and gone to festivals between missions instead of spending that time in contemplative solitude. Or perhaps his wife would have considered his vocation too dangerous and demanded he quit to pursue a safer career. He smiled. Yeah, she would definitely be a girl with character; the strength to keep him in line when needed.

There had been many potential girls throughout the years, but he had always been too busy or came across too nonchalant and distant. Those interested in his cool attitude became fewer as the years went on; they all married other men. Men with stable jobs and homes and hobbies like Shougi and making model ships. Men who drank and smoked too much and lost their hair as they descended into old age. Men who took their families to the park and bought them ice cream and played ball. He wasn't one of those men; he never could have been, and maybe those beautiful girls who had desired him understood he could never realise their dreams. They gave up on him, one by one. He would never be the ever present husband or father they craved. He couldn't make that promise.

He closed his eyes and envisioned the wife that was never his, the children he never had. He pictured them playing in fields, chasing butterflies and flying kites. Falling over, scratching their knees, crying as they ran to him for comfort and support. He held them close and whispered to them that everything was going to be okay, that he would make everything right. Big words from just one insignificant person.

He did have children, but they weren't his. Maybe their bond was stronger than blood; a bond built on sweat, tears and discipline. He had made them work hard, forced them to fuse into a pseudo-family for their own protection as well as that of their village. They had learned to cooperate under his guidance, their bond increasing in strength long after he had nothing left to teach them. They all had their own lives now; their own missions, their own problems...their own students. He wondered if they still remembered him from time to time and what they thought about when they did.

Would they remember him as the silent bystander, allowing them to think up their own solutions to problems? Perhaps they would think of him as one of the key jounin of the village, putting him on a pedestal. What if they simply recognised him as the detached joker who always read those somewhat suspect novels? Or worse, that guy who tried to act cool and was always late? Whatever they thought of him, he hoped he had taught them something useful about life. Whether they remembered he had unveiled those truths for them or not was unimportant. What was paramount was that they understood what was of supreme significance in life. Their blood oath. Their law.

_Friendship_. And all which that word entailed. Love. Support. _Loyalty_. Camaraderie. Understanding. Protection. Teamwork. Help. Cooperation. _Respect_.

He hoped he had left behind something of value. Those bonds would conquer and carry on in death. The bonds he still shared with his team mates, though they were long gone. Gone before he could fathom what he had lost.

He had grown to understand that life was fragile, and temporary. He was accustomed to losing those he loved and though he would never wish that fate upon anyone, he knew it was inevitable. It was a part of life. Life came and went in the blink of an eye. If you didn't die today, your funeral could just as well be tomorrow.

He smirked. It looked like his own was coming sooner rather than later. The pain was excruciating and growing stronger, expanding across his torso. His limbs were already numb, rendering them useless.

This is it, he thought. This is the final hour of the Copycat Ninja Kakashi, former ANBU Captain, son of Hatake Sakumo; the White Fang of Konoha, but first and foremost captain and guardian of Team 7.

Naruto, Sakura, Sasuke. Remember your lessons well. You'll need them every day of your lives.


End file.
